


Good Morning, Sunshine

by Lemon_and_Honey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Parent Castiel, Parent Dean Winchester, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_and_Honey/pseuds/Lemon_and_Honey
Summary: Jack is gone, God is dead, the world didn’t end, and now Dean can finally move on with his life. No more monsters, no more demons, no more hunting. Now they can be normal. Happy. Three years after Chuck is defeated, Dean and Cas get married. Three years after that, they adopted their daughter. It’s hard to believe, but Dean’s life is amazing. Perfect, even.But that might be the problem. As time passes, Dean is beginning to see cracks in his perfect, little world. Something is wrong- very, very wrong- and as he begins to unravel the mystery of what’s really going on, he might have to face the fact that his dream life is just that: a dream.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Good Morning, Sunshine

_“Fine! If that’s the way you want it, then the story’s over! Welcome to the end!”_

Dean awoke in a panic, ears ringing and adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

Immediately, fear gripping his chest, he reached out through the dark. His fingers groped blindly at the sheets. He sighed when he realized the mattress beside him was empty. Empty, but still warm. Cas must have just gotten up. 

Slowly, Dean propped himself up on his elbows and glanced around the quiet bedroom. 

It was completely dark. The only sound to fill the air was the soft hum of the air conditioner in the corner. His clothes from the night before, which he had left crumpled in the floor, were now folded on the dresser across the room. 

_Cas must’ve picked them up for me ,_ he thought as he climbed out of bed. He made his way towards the dresser and picked up his t-shirt, slipping it over his head. Gently, he smoothed out the wrinkled fabric with his hands.

The shirt was one of his favorites. He wore it for any and all occasions; going out, working around the house, sleeping. It was a size too big and the print on the front was a little uneven, but Cas had gotten it for him last year for his fiftieth birthday and that made it special to him. 

Quietly, trying not to make too much noise, Dean made his way to the bedroom door and opened it. Instantly, he was hit by the sweet smell of maple bacon and fried eggs wafting from the kitchen. 

_Cas is making breakfast_ , he thought and stomach flipped hungrily. All the fear and anxiety he had felt just a few moments before was gone. 

He followed his nose, compelled by the scent of fresh coffee and the promise of a wonderful breakfast, and entered the kitchen. He immediately smiled at the sight before him. 

Castiel was standing in front of the stove, a spatula in his hand and a skillet on the burner in front of him. 

He was wearing one of Dean’s Led Zeppelin shirts; an old favorite with a stretched collar, holes in the shoulder, and a huge oil stain across the chest. A pair of grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. The hair at the nape of his neck was curled, wet from a recently taken shower. His expression was one of deep concentration. 

A wave of adoration washed over him as Dean approached. 

Slowly, he crept up behind him. One arm gently wrapped around his waist, the other across his chest, and Dean pulled him back until all of Castiel’s weight was braced against him. 

The spatula in Castiel’s hand landed on the counter with a soft clatter. He sighed and rolled his head back, resting it on Dean’s shoulder. Their eyes met. Both of them smiled.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel said, voice still deep and husky from sleep. 

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Dean slurred against his ear. And then, he yawned. 

Castiel laughed deeply at that; a bright happy sound that rocked his whole body and sent a pleasant shiver down Dean’s spine.

“I think you need to go back to bed,” he said and pushed away from his husband to stand upright. Dean practically whined at the loss of the warmth in his arms, but Castiel merely shook his head and picked up his spatula again. “It’s only six o’clock. Ali won’t be up for another hour or so.” 

“Well, that means we have an hour or so to ourselves,” Dean teased with a lazy smile. His hand stretched forward, intending to land it on the small of Castiel’s back. Before he could, however, the other man shied away from his touch. 

“I apologize,” he said, moving his skillet to an unlit burner. “But I’m a little preoccupied at the moment.” 

Dean watched as he made his way across the kitchen and took a stack of plates down from the cabinet. A comfortable warmth spread through his chest as he leaned against the counter and watched him work. 

In the years since defeating Chuck, Cas had discovered a new passion. He loved to cook and funny enough, Dean loved to watch him. Whether it was for their anniversary or Ali’s birthday or just a regular morning breakfast, he knew Cas put everything he had into whatever he was making and it was almost mesmerizing to watch. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Cas picked up the skillet and slid the freshly cooked eggs onto a plate. He then picked up the salt and pepper and dusted the dish with each. 

Although it was such a simple action, a cool determination crossed his face. Dean smiled. 

_Only my Cas_ , he thought to himself as he beamed with pride and affection and something close to pure, unfiltered worship. 

Sometimes he loved him so much it hurt.

* * *

After he ate breakfast and gave Cas a warm kiss on the cheek, Dean decided to take his advice and head back to bed, although he didn’t actually sleep. 

Instead, he just lay there on his side, eyes focused on the window as the usual sound of morning began to fill the house. He heard Cas calling Ali’s name, Ali’s footsteps bounding against the hardwood floor, the sound of chairs scraping, dishes clattering in the sink.

He took a deep breath and just listened. Focused. He held them close and refused to let them go. He used them to replace the horrible sounds and awful, angry voice that filled his dreams. 

_I’m here,_ he reminded himself as he closed his eyes. _Right here. In this house. With my husband, with my daughter; this is my life now. The monsters are long gone. Chuck is long gone. It’s over._

Sometimes it was easy to forget that. To forget that it was truly, honestly over. 

The nightmares never stopped. They kept him up most of the time and if he did happen to get the luxury of drifting off to sleep, he often awoke in a cold sweat, Chuck’s voice ringing in his ears. 

Even years later, he was still afraid; afraid of monsters, afraid of demons, afraid of Chuck, of losing what he has. Afraid that it would turn out this was all some big, elaborate dream and he’d wake up to find that he was still in the bunker, fighting the good fight and trying to save a world that couldn’t truly be saved. 

Luckily, he had the perfect thing to remind him that none of that was true. 

Dean allowed a soft smile to cross his lips as footstep approached the bedroom. He listened quietly as the door creaked open. Someone laughed: a soft, sweet sound that made his heart absolutely glow. He fought to keep his eyes closed. 

“Wake him up?” A small voice asked. 

“Yes,” Cas said in assurance. “You can wake him up. He’ll be upset if you don’t tell him goodbye.” 

Dean felt two small hands press against his back. His smile widened. 

“Dad? Dad! You gotta get up!” Ali said, trying to shake him awake. Dean swallowed a laugh, refusing to budge an inch no matter how hard she tried. He could feel Cas glaring at him. 

“Dean,” he said in his best ‘listen to me or there will be consequences’ voice. “We don’t have time to play games. We have to go. We’re going to be late. If you don’t-” 

“Maybe he’s dead!” Ali suddenly squeaked. Castiel immediately choked on whatever words he wanted to say. Dean let out a loud laugh and rolled over onto his side. 

“Yep, you’re right,” he said, reaching out to pull his daughter onto the bed with him. “I’m definitely dead. Leave me to rest in peace.” 

“Hey!” Ali sputtered as she tried to wiggle out of his arms. “You are not! Don’t lie to me!” 

“Alright, alright. Sorry for lying,” he said as she finally broke free and fell onto the bed beside him. 

She giggled and kicked her feet against the mattress. “You better be sorry. You shouldn’t lie. That’s wrong.” 

“I know. I know…,” he said, trailing off. He paused for a moment before letting out another loud laugh. 

“What?” She said, ceasing her kicking. “What’s so funny?” 

He motioned towards her feet. 

“My shoes?” 

Dean nodded and shot Cas a look, one eyebrow raised in question. Cas just smiled and rolled his eyes. A silent conversation passed between them. Dean once again looked at her feet. 

Rain boots. A big, bright pair of hot pink rain boots. 

It hadn’t been raining when he was up earlier. It wasn’t supposed to rain all week. It was a six day, sunny forecast. 

“Did you father let you dress yourself this morning?” Dean asked, reaching down to push her hair out of her face. 

Ali nodded and kicked her legs again. “Yep! So, I’m wearing my favorites.” 

“Favorites, huh? And why are you doing that? Goin’ somewhere important?” 

Ali frowned pointedly at him. “It’s school time!” 

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Dean grinned at her. “How could I forget?” 

Before she could say anymore, he pulled her into his arms. “So, since you’re going to school, we gotta lay down some ground rules, okay? We don’t want a repeat of last week, right?” 

“No.” Ali shook her head. 

“No!” Cas said, a little louder. 

Dean looked between them. “Okay, then. Let’s run through it. Number one, no fighting. Number two, no biting. And number three…” 

“No swearing!” Ali finished. He nodded approvingly. 

“Atta girl! Now, promise me you’ll have a good day, alright?” 

“Alright! I promise!” 

“Pinky swear?” Dean asked and stuck out his little finger. 

“Pinky swear!” She said and wrapped her finger around his. They shook on it and he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. 

“Alright, now get going. Before your father has a brain aneurysm.” 

“What does that mean?” She asked as she wiggled her way off the bed. 

Before her foot even touched the floor, however, Castiel whisked her up into his arms, backpack and all. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and turning towards the door. “We don’t have time for an explanation now. We can look it up in the dictionary later.” 

“Wait,” Dean said as he began walking away. He barely managed to grab the end of his trench coat before he was out of his reach. Cas glanced back and met his eye. What is it now, he seemed to be asking. Dean gave him a sly smile. 

“Don’t keep me waiting too long, okay?”

He watched as Cas gave a little laugh, pulled Ali higher into his arms, and smiled. 

“Don’t worry,” he said as their daughter looked back and forth between them in confusion. “I won’t.” 

“Okay,” Dean said and let go. Cas managed to get a few more steps towards the door before he piped up again. “Love you, Cas.” 

“I love you, too,” he said over his shoulder. 

Taking this to be a sign that they were actually leaving now, Ali began to wave from her father’s arms. “Bye, dad! Love you!” 

“Love you more!” Dean called after her. 

He didn’t lay back down until he heard the front door open and close behind them. 

* * *

It wasn’t often that they found the time to do this. Once in a blue moon, if they were lucky. 

Castiel worked too much. Dean was hardly ever home. Their days off rarely matched up and school let out at three o’clock. Ali had always been a light sleeper, so any night time fun was a no go, too. 

That left a very small window for alone time. 

But when they did get the chance, it was good. Like really, really freaking good. Especially when it had been a while. 

“I must be getting old,” Dean said as he rested between Castiel’s thighs afterwards, head pressed into the crook of his neck. On the nightstand, the clock read ten AM. They’d spent the last two hours in bed. And Dean felt like he’d been hit by a truck. “Because I’m friggin’ exhausted.” 

“Me too,” Cas muttered, gently running his fingers through Dean’s hair. 

“I don’t even think I can move. My body still feels like Jello. You’re too good at what you do.” 

Cas chuckled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re being over dramatic.” 

“No, I’m completely serious.” 

And he was. Beneath Castiel’s hands, he was putty, plain and simple. A shuddering, moaning mess. 

Castiel knew him better than anyone else, inside and out, and that gave him the leverage to move Dean in ways he had never been moved before. Every brush of his lips, jerk of his hand, roll of his hips; it was enough to bring Dean to his knees, whimpering and begging for more. 

Even after all these years, that had never changed. Cas could still play him like a damn fiddle. He did so every single time without fail. 

“You know,” Cas said, tracing patterns between Dean’s shoulder blades. “I’m probably going to sound a little ungrateful for what we have now, but I miss this. I wish we had more time together.” 

“No, I totally understand. Sometimes I feel like I don’t see you at all,” Dean sighed and took a deep breath. “I used to think hunting was hard, but _real_ jobs are killer. And if we don’t figure out how to line up our shifts…” 

“Hey, don’t worry about that right now. You’re just going to make yourself angry over nothing.”

“At least we aren’t facing death on a daily basis.” 

“I don’t know. The traffic on main can be pretty rough sometimes. And people around here are horrible drivers.” 

Dean laughed. “Says the dude who backed over our daughter’s bike just last week.” 

“You’re one to talk. How many times have you put it in reverse instead of drive when pulling out of the driveway? The garage door has so many dents it looks like it was beaten with a sledge hammer.” 

“You know, maybe we are getting old,” Dean said with a chuckle as he rolled off of Cas. His legs were beginning to feel numb from their position. All his muscles ached. He knew if he didn’t lay down now, he’d be sore when he stood up later. 

He pulled Cas over with him. 

“Old and senile. Putting it into reverse instead of drive. Backing over bikes. What’s next? We’ll be trying to use our keys in the neighbor’s door.” 

Cas chuckled and buried his face into Dean’s shoulder. “Doesn’t sound all that bad,” he murmured. “If I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. He pulled Castiel just a little closer, feeling his bare skin burn against his own. “You’re right. I wouldn’t mind growing old with you.” 

* * *

The rest of the day passed by leisurely. 

After laying there for another hour or so, Dean and Cas finally rolled out of bed to shower, change clothes, and grab some lunch. They ate on the couch together and managed to catch the second half of Back to the Future on TV.

Eventually after they ate, Cas fell asleep with his head in Dean’s lap. 

There was always something so lovely about how Cas looked when he was asleep. Maybe it was because they were married now or maybe it was just because he had originally been an angel and therefore, didn’t need sleep; either way, something about it was fascinating and beautiful and Dean could sit there and just stare at him for hours. 

While Cas slept, Dean simply settled deeper down into the couch and flipped through the channels looking for something decent to watch. He eventually landed on The Shining. 

By the time the movie was almost over and Cas finally roused again, it was almost three o’clock. Dean remained on the couch as Cas got ready to pick up Ali. 

“Let’s hope your little talk with her this morning did it’s job,” Cas muttered as he finished adjusting his tie. Dean looked up at him with a soft smile. 

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” 

“You know she gets it from you, right?” 

“You think?” Dean pushed himself up on his elbows. He grinned cheekily as Cas leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a kiss to his jaw. 

“Well, she certainly didn’t get it from me,” he laughed and started to pull away. 

Before he could, however, Dean glided his fingers through Cas’ hair and pulled him back down. This time, their lips met. 

“Love you,” Dean whispered as Cas straightened himself. The look in his husband’s eyes was enough to make him feel like melting into the couch. 

“I love you, too. And I’ll be back in ten minutes.” 

“Be careful,” Dean called, same as always, as Cas headed towards the front door. 

“I will,” he called back and the front door opened and closed. 

Dean sighed and settled further into the couch, feeling warm all over. 

* * *

_“Fine! If that’s the way you want it, then the story’s over! Welcome to the end!”_

_“He’s a writer. Writers lie…”_

_“Why don’t you just go back to earth two and play with your other toys because we will never give you the ending you want!”_

Dean awoke to a loud slam. His head swam as he tried to collect his bearings, sweat dripping down his forehead, heart beating like a kick drum. 

He forced himself to swallow down that panic as he realized he was still sitting on the couch in the living room and someone was coming down the hall towards him. 

“Dad! Dad!” Ali called as she burst into the living room. Dean barely had time to prepare as she launched herself onto the couch and into his arms. He hugged her tightly as she giggled and his heart rate slowly began to return to normal. 

“Well, someone’s had a good day.” 

“I got ice cream!” She said brightly, sliding out of his arms. Dean cocked an eyebrow in question. 

“Ice cream?” 

“I probably should have texted you to let you know,” Cas said and Dean turned around to look at him. He was standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “That’s what made us so late.” 

“Oh,” Dean muttered, slightly confused. He glanced at the clock above the television. Cas was right. It was almost four thirty. He’d fallen asleep and hadn’t even noticed. 

“Why… Why did you go get ice cream?” He asked, trying to shake off the thought of his dream or more specifically, who he had been dreaming about. 

“‘Well,” Cas took a step towards the couch before glancing at their daughter. He seemed to consider her for a moment before nodding. “Ali, honey, why don’t you go put your backpack in your room, okay?” 

“Okay!” She said brightly, rushing out of the living room and down the hall without a moment’s thought. Dean shot him a look and Cas gave a soft smile. 

“I don’t want her to know we’re talking about her,” he said and reached into his pocket. 

“Take a look at this,” he said, holding up a pink slip of paper between two fingers. Immediately, Dean knew what it was. He bit his lip and reached out to take it. 

He expected the worst as he unfolded it. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, a bright smile crossing his face. “To the parents/guardians of Ali Winchester, we would like to inform you of an incident involving your daughter and another student in her class.” 

He handed the paper back to Cas. “‘Another student? As in, one other student? Not multiple?” Castiel shook his head. Dean’s smile got even wider. “Wow, I’m impressed. Only one disciplinary action today. That’s a first.” 

“Apparently,” Cas said with a humored sigh. “The boy next to her stole her pencil during quiet reading time and in response, she called him a ‘no good, son of a bitch’. But yes. In response to your question, it was only an issue involving one student.” 

“Hey,” Dean shrugged. “Any improvement is better than none.” 

“I know. That’s why I felt she deserved to go out for ice cream.”


End file.
